year before Linden met her, this aunt had died, leaving her a small
income. She removed shortly after this event, at the request of a
relative--the only surviving one, as far as she knew--and now lived
with her. Of the precise character of the father and mother, he
could learn nothing. Ellen, therefore, neither lost nor gained any
thing in his eyes by birth. For what she was to him, and for that
alone, he loved her--and loved purely and tenderly.

An engagement took place in a few months after their acquaintance
commenced. It was shortly afterwards that the conversation detailed
in the opening of our story commenced, from which it will appear
that Charles had not yet ventured to inform his mother of the choice
he had made. Knowing the strength of her peculiar prejudices, he had
every thing to fear, as far as opposition was concerned. The fact
that Ellen appeared so anxious to obtain her favour made him less
willing to risk the consequences of informing his mother that he had
made his choice of a wife. He knew she would oppose a marriage most
strenuously. What the effect of such opposition upon Ellen would be,
it would be impossible to tell;--it might, he feared, lead her to
decline his offer. For this reason, he urged an immediate union; and
wished it to take place without his parent's knowledge. Ellen
opposed this earnestly, but was finally induced to yield. They were
married, and started the next morning to visit Mrs. Linden. Two days
before, Charles had written to inform his mother of what had taken
place, and of his intended return home, on a short visit, with his
bride.

"My dear mother," a portion of his letter read, "I know you will be
grieved, and, I fear, offended at what I have done; but wait only
for a day or two, until you see my Ellen--your Ellen, let me